


Perfected Chaos

by ohcrap



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Oikawa is lonely, iwaizumi's life is looking up, mentions of other characters that may or may not be included eventually???
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-03-30 06:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3927079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohcrap/pseuds/ohcrap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa is drunk and wants some french fries and Iwaizumi gets annoyed easily. (Who can blame him?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wasn't going to post this until it was finished because I know I'm going to be awful at updating so bear with me.
> 
> oikaiwas.tumblr.com

Oikawa Tooru had a nasty habit of filling the emptiness in his chest with bitter drinks that made his throat burn and thoughts fade away. It wasn’t even like he was drinking to forget someone, he wishes it were that simple. Instead, the poison he was throwing down his throat was to numb the pain of the nothingness that was his life. Sure, he had money, his preferred job in public relations for a successful magazine, and a brand new apartment overlooking the best part of the city. But none of that meant anything to him if he didn’t have someone to share it with. Someone to wrap their arms around him after a hard day at work, someone to curl up against before falling blissfully asleep, someone to greet with him a smile and a kiss on the cheek. Instead, the only things that greeted him after a long day was empty white walls and dirty dishes.

Having been fed up with the silence in his apartment for the fourth time that week, Oikawa found his way to a new bar that had just opened up a few days prior. Within twenty minutes, he could barely feel his face, let alone the pathetic hollowness haunting him.

He slammed his empty glass on the bar, having chugged it’s bitter contents all in one steady swig.

“One more!” Oikawa exclaimed, eyes slightly out of focus and cheeks flushed pink as all the other ‘one mores’ started to hit him. He clumsily caught himself on the edge of the bar as the room began to sway beneath him.

“Mr. Bartender~” Oikawa sang, waving a finger. “If you take to long, I’ll lose my buzz~.”

He stumbled once more, bumping into a couple to his left. Oikawa turned to mutter an apology but as he met the harsh glare of the one with black hair, he forgot what he was going to say. Instead, Oikawa’s gaze flickered between them, from the tall black haired boy then to the short orange haired boy standing behind him. After a few long, tense moments, Oikawa finally reached out to balance himself on the taller man’s shoulder. With his spare hand, he playfully poked the man’s chest.

“Cute jacket.” Oikawa said through a chuckle and then turned back to the bar. His beer was still M.I.A.

“Mr. Bartender, where’d you go?” He adopted a childish whine.

Oikawa leaned over the counter and eyed one of the many hoses below. A mischievous smile set on his lips as he looked around to make sure the bartender was no where near the soon-to-be crime scene.

Reaching to grab the nozzle, he whispered, “This ones on the house.” With that, Oikawa brought the hose to his mouth and poured his long desired drink himself.

He choked a little bit to start but sure enough, he was soon smoothly chugging beer directly from the tiny, retractable hose.People had started to gather around him, bouts of laughter filtered into Oikawa’s ears and he thought he could hear them chanting, “Chug, chug, chug, chug!” Although he wasn't _completely sure_ , as Oikawa was pretty far gone at this point and people and sounds alike were blurring together in a foggy haze.

His few moments of glory came to a screeching halt, quite literally, as the bartender came rushing over and yanked Oikawa away from the back of his neck. An unwelcome, shrill cry sounded directly at Oikawa’s ear.

“What the hell are you doing?!” He shrunk away from the bartender’s fury and glanced down at the whitening knuckles at his collar.

Once he cleared his throat, dragging it out dramatically, Oikawa raised a slim finger and replied matter-of-factly, “Getting the drink _you_ failed to get me.”

A few ‘Oohs’ and ‘Oh, shit’s came from the crowd that had excitedly gathered around the action.

“Bastard.” The bartender’s lip curled, scowling as he pushed Oikawa backwards towards the exit.

“Just hand over the money for the drinks and then get your worthless ass out of here.” He dropped his hold on Oikawa and held his hand out for the cash.

“Sure, sure.” Oikawa waved his left hand as if to say ‘no big deal’ as his right scoured his pockets.

Moments passed filled with his own mindless whistling as his hand kept coming up empty. In front of him, the bartender tapped his foot impatiently, jaw clenching and unchelching. Oikawa opened his mouth to reply when an obnoxious burp escaped instead, right into the ever reddening face of the bartender. He wondered if it was possible for a man to pop. Desperately trying to fend off a smirk, he raised his heavy lidded eyes to the bartender’s seething ones.

“What is your policy with IOUs?”

Whether it was because the abundance of alcohol in his system or perhaps because the bartender had superhuman speed, but Oikawa did not see the fist coming straight for his nose until it was on him. Pain erupted from the center of his face and little white sparks cascaded across his line of vision. Warm blood trailed down his face, pooling into the creases of his lips as he falls flat on his ass.

“Don’t bother coming back.” He heard the bartender shout above him, slamming the door shut hard enough to rattle the glass windows.

He laid there for awhile, the cold from the concrete seeping into his skin, helping to cool him down from the liquid heat in his veins. Above him, a blue fluorescent sign reading Northstar Lounge sways noisily in the wind, creaking each time it swings on it’s hinges. It’s not exactly peaceful, but Oikawa finds himself fighting off the urge to sleep, right here with that awful sign screeching at him and the bass of the music deep inside the lounge threatening to shatter the windows. He wonders if it’d be bothersome if he did end up sleeping here for the night. As if to answer his unspoken question, the door swings open.

“Get the fuck _up_.” A voice growls behind him and before Oikawa has a chance to respond, a foot rams into his ribbed cage.

The blow sends the air rushing out of his lungs, his body aching and curled up in a fetal position. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the man standing over him retracting his leg for yet another kick.

“Whoa, hey! Give him a second.” A much higher, softer voice rang out over Oikawa’s groans.

He feels warm hands on his shoulders, gently helping him up into a seating position. The world around him was spinning, the blue light from the sign streaking across his eyelids in multiple directions. Hoping to make everything stop moving, Oikawa clamped his eyes shut.

“Whatever. Just get him out of here.” The assailant gives an annoyed grunt before disappearing back into the dimly lit club, the door still ajar.

Beside Oikawa, his savior gasped at the sight of him. “Damn, he really got you good.” All Oikawa could do was grunt in response.

The boy sighed. “Here.” He said lightly, his jacket rustling as he moved.

At a sudden pressure at his nose, Oikawa flinched, pain shooting across his face once more causing him to cry out.

“Ah! Sorry, it’s just...there is a lot of blood and….I want to help.”

The unveiled concern in the boy’s voice made Oikawa open his eyes. Immediately, he was greeted with a toothy smile, warm brown eyes crinkling and cheeks slightly flushed. It was the small orange haired boy from earlier, he realized. He was a lot more friendly than his companion, Oikawa thought as he remembered the dark gaze of the boy with black hair from earlier.

Nodding to the small rag he was holding to Oikawa’s nose, the boy said. “Hold this, you’re gonna need it.”

A small wave a gratitude washing over him--which didn’t happen often-- and he replaced Shorty’s hand on the rag with his own.

“Alrighty, so-uh…I’m gonna help you up.” There was a little less confidence in the boy’s voice than before, probably realizing just how much bigger Oikawa was than himself now that he was up close.

Since the boy had come to his rescue, it was now Oikawa’s turn. He held up a hand to fend the orange boy off.

“Don’t fret Chibi-chan, this is not the first time this one man show hit a bump in the road~.” Oikawa flashed him a quick smile, ignoring the ‘what does that even mean’ that the shorty quietly uttered, and rose to his feet just as the world began to spin again.

“Oi Hinata, you have to come s- _ouuff_!” The figure that had suddenly appeared in the doorway was cut off by a stumbling Oikawa for a second time tonight.

“Whoops!” Oikawa chuckled as he bounced off the ridged frame of the taller boy and into the shorty--Hinata--behind him, who reaches out to steady him. In lieu of a thanks, Oikawa pats the messy orange curls atop Hinata’s head.

“Watch where you’re going, Kageyama!” Hinata launched at the taller boy, whose mouth was set in a seemingly customary thin line.

“I was, dumbass! It’s not my fault this guy is too drunk to walk a straight line. I just-”

“Buzzed.” Oikawa cut him off.

Kageyama stared at him, one eyebrow cocked. “What?”

“I’m only buzzed.” Oikawa wrapped an arm around Hinata’s shoulder--which was a lot lower than he expected-- thinking that feigning nonchalance would make him look somewhat sober.

It didn’t.

Hinata and Kageyama looked at Oikawa with expressions that lingered between amusement and disbelief. After a few beats of silence, Hinata finally shook his head and turned to Kageyama, slightly straining under the weight of a drunk Oikawa.

“What was it that you wanted?”

“I came out here to tell you that Noya-san took more shots while Daichi-san wasn’t looking and is now insisting on giving Asahi-san a lap dance and--” He cut off suddenly and scratched the back of his neck, searching for words and looking embarrassed.

“Well, I just thought that this was something you’d want to see.” Kageyama shrugged, cheeks somewhat flushed.

At the mention of the lap dance, Hinata visibly brightened. His eyes widened to a dreamy sparkle, his mouth forming a wide ‘O’.

Jumping excitedly, he yelled, “Ooh! Maybe Noya-san can teach me!” And then disappeared into the club with such speed that he blurred in Oikawa’s vision. The words, ‘Teach me, Noya-san, teach me,’ fading off as Hinata traveled deeper into the shadows of the lounge.

The sudden absence of Hinata’s body caused him to pitch forward. Though this time, after only a few missteps, Oikawa manage to catch himself without using another body. He smiled lazily at his own small victory. Kageyama, who was still at the door, cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Uhh-um...Do you…” He shifted on his feet awkwardly and tried again. “Are you-”

He gave up his lame attempt at talking when he saw Oikawa raise his right hand to his forehead in a salute.

“I’m off. Make sure you _properly_ thank Chibi-chan for me later~.” He winked at the blushing boy and ambled down the block to the right, moving farther into the city’s nightlife and farther away from his empty apartment as the moon shone overhead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi is damned tired and Oikawa just wants some fries

“Have a good night. Also, be careful crossing the park across the street. I heard they still haven’t caught that guy yet.”

Iwaizumi Hajime smiled as he said goodbye to the last customers of his career as a waiter. When the door finally shut behind the couple that had just tipped him handsomely, bells jingling with the motion, Iwaizumi slumped into the nearest booth with a sigh. The clock hanging above the door read 1:00 am, officially relieving him from his duty.

“Well,” The low purr of his fellow co-worker, Kuroo, sounded from the kitchen, “how does it feel to be free?”

“You’re gonna laugh when you hear this but,” Iwaizumi glanced at Kuroo through the tiny kitchen window, “bittersweet.” He finished, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Sure enough, the predicted clap of laughter escaped Kuroo’s lips as he tossed his head back, tousling his already messy locks. For a moment he disappeared behind the wall, faint footsteps hinted at his movement and then sauntered into the room through the kitchen doors. He dropped into a chair at the counter and swung around to look at Iwaizumi with a heavy lidded gaze. If Iwaizumi didn’t know any better, he’d think Kuroo was flirting, eyeing at him like that. But no, that was just the way he looked. The only person who ever received a fully attentive look from Kuroo was this kid named Kenma. He came by often, ordered just a coffee and sat in which ever seat had the most sunlight, carelessly tapping away at a hand held game. Iwaizumi still hadn’t found out if the two were dating or not, but he had his suspicions.

“Please enlighten me,” Kuroo was smirking, “what are you going to miss about this place, huh? The rusty faucet? Our absolutely _lovely_ boss? Oh, I know. It’s those toilets in the men’s room that someone never fails to clog.”

“Yeah, why is that?” Iwaizumi replied, lightly chuckling. “I swear everyday, twice a day someone is rushing in there with a plunger.”

Kuroo raked a hand through his hair, laughter rustling his broad shoulders. “It’s probably because of the god-awful food we serve here. You know I saw the manager squirt mustard into the mac ‘n cheese by accident the other day? She just shrugged and said, ‘I’m not eating it’ and brought it out anyway. I mean, come on people.”

Iwaizumi threw his head back, laughter straining his core. “No shit!”, he managed to squeeze out between gasps.

Kuroo raised his hands in the air. “I’m no liar. I would say you could ask her yourself but..” He trailed off, lifting one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.

Their laughter slowly faded off with the conversation, both becoming lost in thought. Iwaizumi turned to look out the window. It was quiet tonight, the usual dull hum of traffic and voices absent from the poorly lit street. A part of him was kind of annoyed at the alien silence that sat heavy outside. If the usual frenzied atmosphere was present, with car horns sounding angrily every so often and obnoxious music blaring out of open windows that moved so quick you could only make out one beat, this would be easier. If the neighboring bars still provided the usual flow of drunks, those who clutched to a friend for support or those who were coiled around their latest hook-up, turning his back on this place would be a no-brainer. Because all of those things are what made Iwaizumi come hate this place to begin with, this place where everything was covered in a layer of grime and no one ever bothered to give a shit.

But of course not, tonight--of all nights--was silent and peaceful and the cracked pavement glinted at him under the streetlamps, still wet from the earlier storm. It mirrored the same night Iwaizumi had come desperately looking for a job about three years ago, freshly out of college and completely broke. His chest tightening some at the memory of that day, of those first few months he spent trying to get his bearings. He had somehow managed to strike a deal with some guy and rented a severely run down apartment, which was really just one small room, a bathroom--fully equipped with cockroaches--and a sad excuse for a kitchen. Iwaizumi slept on an old orange futon he thrifted for thirty-five bucks, a buy he still to this day it proud of. And while none of these things were even remotely pleasant, he was still fond of them. They were the things that had gotten him through the days when he didn’t want to wake up and brought him to where he was today. A to-be Writing teacher at a high school in the suburbs just outside Tokyo, a job he has wanted for the past four years.

A high-pitched chime snapped Iwaizumi out of his own world.

Across from him, Kuroo was glancing intently at his phone screen, a light blush spreading atop his cheeks and the corners of his mouth twitching. Iwaizumi could only guess who the text was from.

“Um, I gonna head out soon.” Kuroo rose from his perch on the chair, golden eyes out of focus when he looked at Iwaizumi. His mind was visibly elsewhere.

“The kitchen and the bathrooms are all taken care off. Out here is the only place that needs cleaned.” A pause. “Do you want help?” he questioned half-heartedly while reaching for his coat by the door, his usual subtlety no where to be found.

Iwaizumi waved a hand at him, shaking his head. “You go on ahead. I’ll finish up everything here.”

“You sure?” Kuroo raised his eyebrows, pausing with his hand on the door.

Iwaizumi nodded. “Alright,” bells chime as Kuroo opened the front door, “Oh, shoot me a text when you need me to come over to help pack tomorrow.”

“Will do, see you then.”

“See ya later, Iwaizumi-sensei.” Kuroo cooed as he winked at him.

Just before the door shut behind him, Iwaizumi called after him, smirking, “Tell Kenma I said hi.”

Kuroo froze and flicked his eyes up to glance at a smug Iwaizumi. He struggled for a few moments, opening and closing his mouth as he tried to find words. Eventually he gave up and nodded, the blush on his cheeks deepened considerably.

Iwaizumi watched Kuroo stroll down the block to the left, wild hair dancing in the stiff wind that his shoulders hunched against. A bizarre feeling settled in Iwaizumi’s gut as he watched him until he disappeared, his black jacket and hair blending perfectly into the night.

Attempting to ignore it, Iwaizumi went to retrieve the cleaning supplies from the back room where everyone would secretly smoke. The sharp smell of bleach wafted into his nose as he threw open the door, eyeing the dark room until he flicked the lights on. Taking in the plethora of mops, solvents, and soaps, he groaned and pressed his forehead against the wall, closing his eyes.

He should have made Kuroo help him. There was no way Iwaizumi was going to be done scrubbing this hole in the wall clean before two, which is the time he should be home by if he didn’t want to be dragging while packing tomorrow. But of course not, Kuroo had obviously gotten a booty call from Kenma and Iwaizumi had shit luck and no one to go home to--

_Oh._

Iwaizumi slowly stood up straight and reached for a mop and a bucket, slightly in shock. He was jealous of Kuroo. He was jealous that he had gotten a text at 1 am from someone he cared about, jealous that it was his--obvious-- boyfriend who he was probably with by now, and jealous that Kuroo was going to wake up the next morning in absolute bliss and the person he loved was going to be asleep beside him, sun kissing his unknowing face. Hell, by now Kuroo was probably--

Three obnoxious knocks on the windows outside cut Iwaizumi off from his next thought, which was probably for the best.

A faint voice sounded from outside. “Yoohoo~” the person called in a singsongy voice, “is anybody home?”

What the hell?

“I see those lights on back there.” The knocker pointed out with a giggle, words slurring ever so slightly.

Iwaizumi’s hand met his face with a swift smack. He should have never wished for the damned drunks, it was his luck that it’d actually come true. He contemplated hiding in the back until the person went away, but then they spoke again and foiled his plan.

“Ya know,” Iwaizumi could hear a smile in the person’s voice, “the door is still unlocked. I could’ve just walk in but I thought I should be polite”

Polite.

Releasing the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, Iwaizumi stalked to the front of the restaurant to look for his most recent annoyance. Of course they were standing outside the one window that had the blinds down, so he could only just make out their silhouette.

Idiot. How drunk was this guy?

From the childish teasing, he’d been expecting a dumbass teenager who had probably snuck into their parent’s liquor cabinet. Instead, when he pulled up the blinds, he was greeted by a face about the same age as himself. And God, was he pretty. His nose dropped off at a delicate slope, full pink lips that were currently curved in a taunting smirk directly beneath. His hair was a mess atop his head, from the wind Iwaizumi was sure, and he had the urge to touch it’s perfected chaos. Iwaizumi saved his eyes for last which, despite having small patches of purples and blues framing them, had an attractive gleam that made Iwaizumi’s chest tighten.

They had also been staring at him the entire time.

A glittering eye winked at him, the man’s satisfied smirk stretching farther across his flushed cheeks into a sparkling grin. Iwaizumi found that it was hard to breathe on the receiving end of that smile and, for some bizarre reason, this really annoyed him.

“Go away.” He grunted, face pulling down into a frown as he dropped the blinds back into place.

Far from discouraged, the man slid over to the uncovered window on right, amused eyes meeting Iwaizumi’s steely ones. “C’mon! I’m hungry~” He pouted, hands dropping to his stomach.

Iwaizumi’s frown deepened. “We’re closed.” He said more forcefully this time, releasing the blinds over that window too.

He heard a throaty chuckle from the other side. “So serious~”

That pissed Iwaizumi off. Would someone not be serious in this situation? For Christ’s sake, It was one-thirty in the morning and this asshole was trying to keep him here later when all Iwaizumi wanted to do was go home. He valued his sleep, let alone the fact that he didn’t even technically work here anymore.

He yanked to blinds up. “Go. Away.”

The guy had the decency to look defeated. Though, not even a second later, that look was replaced by something Iwaizumi couldn’t quite place as his gaze settled on something to the right.

The front door.

Their eyes flicker between each other and the unlocked door for a few tense moments. Iwaizumi burning holes through the glass between them, aggravated that looks actually couldn’t kill. The man, on the other hand, was leaned slightly forward, face set in a determined expression. His eyes snapped back to Iwaizumi for a split second, shining even more so with the promise of a challenge, before launching himself towards the door with more grace than a drunk person should have.

“Shit.” Iwaizumi grumbled and dashed to hopefully get to the door first.

As soon as he was close enough, he latched onto the handle and, expecting a struggle, threw all of his weight against the glass of the door. But no one was behind the door, in fact, no one was even around. It was as if the guy had just disappeared. Iwaizumi searched the air outside.

“What the hell?” he whispered when he saw nothing.

A groan brought his eyes down. On the sidewalk outside, lay the man in a tangle of limbs and didn’t seem to be moving. Half concerned and half still expecting the fallen man to jump up for the door, Iwaizumi opened the door just enough for his face to peak outside.

“You okay?” He asked, though tried to sound indifferent.

Again, a muffled groan. Standing there with his face poked around the door, cold pinching his cheeks, Iwaizumi weighed his options. He could leave this guy where he was, clean up what he had to inside, and then go home. The guy would eventually just fall asleep if he is left alone long enough anyway. This was the best and smartest option, as it was actually in Iwaizumi’s interest. But no, contemplating the slumped figure before him, he decided on the worst and most annoying option. Which was to give in, help him, and send him on his drunken way as soon as possible.

Letting out a long, exasperated sigh, Iwaizumi opened the door farther and stepped out into the night. Nudging the fallen figure with his foot, Iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow.

“You okay?” he repeated lamely.

When he received no response, Iwaizumi dropped down into a crouch beside him and poked him, maybe too forcefully, in the shoulder.

That got a response, “Ugh. Hurts.” Iwaizumi wasn’t sure if he meant his poke or the fact that he had just collided with cold pavement. He placed a hand one each of the man’s upper arms, which were laced with fine muscle, and helped him into a sitting position.

“My hero.” The man said as thanks.

Iwaizumi could tell he was trying to sound flippant but he failed miserably, as he was in obvious pain with a hand to his head and eyes clenched shut.

“What’s your name?” Iwaizumi said grudgingly, still annoyed he was in this situation.

Seeming to have regained some life, the man tossed his head back to look at Iwaizumi, glossy hair bouncing. “Oikawa Tooru at your service~” He winked.

Iwaizumi was about to say that no, it was actually the other way around, but a thin trickle of blood dripping down the man’s--Oikawa’s-- bruised, yet still perfect, nose.

“Uh, you got a little something..”Iwaizumi gestured to his own face.

Confused, Oikawa brought a hand up to his nose, groaning when he saw it come away red. “Not again.” He whined, mouth dropping into a pout like an oversized child.

“Again?” Iwaizumi was vaguely interested.

Oikawa’s mouth quickly abandoned its pout and stretched into a lazy grin, blood spilling over his lips. Iwaizumi wondered how it was possible for someone to look as good as he did right now. Blood and all.

“You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been through tonight.” Oikawa cooed, leaning forward on his hands.

Iwaizumi could smell the alcohol on his breath with the new proximity, could see his deep chocolate eyes with pupils dilated from the darkness around them. Dropping his eyes, Iwaizumi leaned away from Oikawa, hoping the heat in his cheeks wasn’t visible. He decided to change the subject, since this one seemed a bit dangerous.

“Do you need help getting up?” He asked and enforced his retreat by standing up himself.

Sighing, Oikawa debated for a bit. His head tilted upwards, eyebrows furrowed as his fingers brushing his chin thoughtfully. Again, Iwaizumi was taken aback by his seemingly effortless picturesque nature. Having come to a conclusion, Oikawa stretched his long arms out to Iwaizumi, wiggling his fingers playfully.

"I think I’m gonna need Hero-chan’s help~” He batted his long eyelashes innocently.

 _Hero_ -chan? What had Iwaizumi gotten himself into?

Again, he contemplated leaving him there on the ground and to just go home. But unfortunately, Oikawa was extremely attractive and kinda resembled a kicked puppy at the moment. Which put Iwaizumi at an immense disadvantage, as he had a great weakness for puppies and cute guys alike.

Iwaizumi reached out to grab Oikawa’s slender hands, and pulled with all his strength, expecting a struggle due to Oikawa’s height. Apparently, Oikawa was lighter than he looked and practically sprang up off the ground, colliding with Iwaizumi’s stoic build.

“Whoops~” Oikawa giggled, a pleasant sound, and a genuine smile played at his lips.

Iwaizumi could feel heat prickle his skin once more. Just as he went to place a hand on Oikawa’s shoulder to balance him, Oikawa hooked his right arm around Iwaizumi’s neck and leaned into him.

“I don’t think I can stand on my own.” He said it plainly, but Iwaizumi fought a shiver that ran down his spine as Oikawa’s alcohol laced breath brushed against his skin.

Iwaizumi said nothing--he couldn't-- as he lead Oikawa into the diner and helped him settle into a booth. Oikawa plopped down into the booth, giggling when he continued to bounce after the fact.

“Uh,” Iwaizumi finally spoke up, unsure of what to do now, “there’s an aid kit in the back?” He cursed himself inwardly for being so awkward.

Oikawa didn’t seem to notice, or didn't let on that he did, and bobbed his head cheerfully, shutting his eyes as he did so.

Iwaizumi lingered for a moment, still apprehensive, before turning stiffly on his heel and went to retrieve the first aid kit.

When he returned, he noted that Oikawa had repositioned himself in his seat. His back was now against the window at the far end of the table, his lithe legs were crossed and slung over the entire booth, ankles dangling over the edge. His arm was thrown over the back of the booth, completing the picture that oozed of a confidence that Iwaizumi envied. And on his face was that lazy, infuriating grin accented by his heavy lidded gaze that boiled Iwaizumi’s blood. Whether from annoyance or something else, Iwaizumi didn’t know, but it sure as hell affected him. Enough that he longed to get a good look at it up close as he whipped away the blood from Oikawa’s face--or lips-- himself.

Resisting the urge to punch himself in the face, Iwaizumi dropped the first aid kit unceremoniously on the table across from Oikawa and pushed it towards him.

“Here.” He grunted. He was not going to help Oikawa clean his face, not after that last thought of his.

Oikawa frowned. “Is this where Hero-chan’s hospitality ends?”

“It usually doesn't even get this far.”

At that, Oikawa smiled brightly, content with the implication that he was special, and opened the first aid kit himself to take out what he needed.

“So,” Oikawa prompted as he dabbed his nose with a cotton ball, eyes on a small mirror, “what is Hero-chan’s name anyway?”

“Is that really important? Can’t you just clean up and get out of here?” Iwaizumi replied, although his stomach fluttered with the thought of Oikawa leaving. God, he was pathetic.

“I can’t leave without knowing the name of my knight in shining armor~” Oikawa smirked and dropped the bloodied cotton ball, a thin trail of blood replacing the one it had just cleaned.

“Pinch the bridge and tilt your head back.” Iwaizumi suggested on reflex.

Oikawa’s eyes widened at the sudden kindness for a split second before complying and pushed another cotton ball to his nose.

“So what is it?” He studied Iwaizumi from under his eyelids.

Scratching the back of his neck, he finally gave in. “Iwaizumi Hajime.”

Oikawa let his head fall back down, nose free of any blood thanks to Iwaizumi’s suggestion, and seemed to ponder something, eyes clouded from being deep in thought. A moment later he snapped his fingers, eyes now gleaming as he sat up straighter.

“Iwa-chan!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updating quicker than i expected hell yeah i'll try to make a habit of getting a new chapter out each week. let me know what you think!!


	3. Chapter 3

Iwaizumi Hajime’s face practically went aflame when Oikawa revealed his new nickname, which Oikawa was quite proud of.

“N-no! Don’t call me that!” Iwaizumi--no, Iwa-chan-- clenched his fists and glared at Oikawa, who was biting back a grin. Iwa-chan was cute when he was flustered.

“Just-” Iwa-chan took a deep breath. “Just call me Iwaizumi. No _-chan_.”

If Oikawa would have been sober, the look Iwa-chan was giving him would’ve shut him up no problem, but they don’t call it ‘liquid courage’ for nothing.

“I like Iwa-chan better~” He cooed, leaning on his hands and towards Iwa-chan, who opened and shut his mouth multiple times before settling on his lame reply.

“No.” Iwa-chan growled, but his blush was still present and ever growing.

“Lets make a deal. “Oikawa pivoted his upper body so he was facing Iwa-chan head on. “I’ll stop calling you Iwa-chan if you make me some french fries.”

Iwa-chan stared at Oikawa, dumbfounded. “I’m not making you french fries.”

Oikawa’s lips moved around a mischievous grin. “Iwa-chan it is, then.”

“No.” Iwa-chan crossed his well muscled arms.

“Iwa-chan~” Oikawa sang, accompanied by a wink.

“No.”

“Iwa-chan.”

“ _No_.”

Oikawa sat back, crossing his arms as well, and waited a moment before delivering the death blow.

“Hajime.”

Iwa-chan’s face went slack, arms dropping to his sides, his body perfectly still. Oikawa patiently watched as Iwa-chan struggled in front of him. Red blush crept up the sides of his neck and peaked at his ears. His hands, now coiled into fists with whitening knuckles, practically vibrated at his sides. The face that was once blank was now tight with tension, jaw clenching and unclenching. Iwa-chan’s eyes regarded Oikawa’s even gaze with fire behind them. Oikawa’s heart raced away in his chest as he waited for the explosion.

His response completely took him off guard.

“I’ll be right back.” He snarled through his teeth, spun on his heel, and stalked back to the kitchen.

Clapping his hands, Oikawa cheered, “Yay, Iwa-chan”, which was followed by the muddled crash of pots and pans colliding with each other.

Oikawa giggled and furthered his teasing. “Iwa-chan so graceful~”

Iwa-chan’s harsh glare was suddenly visible through the kitchen’s order window. “Just shut up while I make your fries.” He growled, then disappearing once more.

The sizzling of the frier started to pick up. “Anything for Iwa-chan~” Oikawa smiled brilliantly at no one.

Deep in the kitchen, Oikawa just barely heard Iwa-chan mumble ‘Shittykawa’.

 In his booth, Oikawa straightened in surprise. He was going to reply but as he figured he wasn’t supposed to hear that, he let it go. Instead, he felt his face warm, oddly happy with the nickname even though it wasn’t exactly a nice one. Oikawa lapsed into a content silence, letting the faint sizzling of the frier fill the air. Every once in a while, the frier popped which a gruff ‘Shit’ typically followed, as Iwa-chan presumably got burned from invading oil drops.

The diner was cute, Oikawa finally realized. It had the stereotypical ‘Diner’ feel to it, brightly color fluorescent lights swirling left and right as if left behind by a paint brush. There was no music playing, it was technically closed after all, but he guessed it would play mostly 80s music when the place was in full swing.

There was chrome everywhere where there wasn’t a window or a spin-off painting of Elvis. Though, instead of acting as a mirror, the chrome walls distorted the reflected image, pinching and stretching Oikawa face depending on the angle.

He started laughing to himself as he slouched in the booth and his face smushed into the shape of a pumpkin, and then again when he sat higher and looked like a peanut. Oikawa was out of the booth, standing and laughing--practically keeled over-- at his reflection that mirrored that of a Sumo wrestler when he heard, “What are you doing?”

Jumping in surprise, Oikawa felt back into his booth when he saw Iwa-chan standing directly beside him. He had a dark brow raised, face perplexed yet slightly amused, and a small red basket of fries in his hand.

“Here.” Iwa-chan placed the basket in front of Oikawa and retreated back to the counter, perching on a stool there.

“Thanks for the food, Iwa-chan!”

“ _Iwaizumi_. You said you’d stop with that ‘Iwa-chan’ shit.” Iwa-chan quoted his nickname with his fingers, the corners of his mouth dipping in a disgruntled fashion.

After plopping a crispy fry in his mouth, Oikawa raised his index and confessed, “A promise doesn’t count if your fingers or toes are crossed.”

At Iwa-chan’s dubious expression, he continued in a playful whisper, “I had my toes crossed when we made that deal,” he paused for effect, voice lilting with laughter as he finished, “ _Iwa-chan_.”

Dropping his face into his hands, Iwa-chan let out a frustrated groan. “Are you always this annoying? Or is it just because you’re trashed.”

“Not trashed,” Oikawa gave Iwa-chan a pointed look from across the table, “and people usually call me charismatic.” He flashed his pearly whites, batting his tangle of eyelashes as if to enforce his claim.

Iwa-chan scoffed and then mumbled under his breath, “To your face at least.”

“Hey!”

Iwa-chan plopped into the booth across from him and crossed his arms over his broad chest. Oikawa found himself wondering how much he worked out to achieve such impressive size, and where so he could watch.

“Look me in the eye and tell me that no one has ever said you were annoying.” Iwa-chan’s eyes caught the light hanging above them, glinting with amusement as he waited for a response.

“No..not annoying- just..” Oikawa lazily searched the room with his eyes, stalling but trying to not look like he was.

Iwa-chan caught his hesitation with ease and prompted him with a sliver of a smile, “Continue, please. I really can’t wait to hear this.”

“Fine!” Oikawa gave up, rolling his eyes as he threw his arms in the arm, signaling his surrender. “A few people have maybe said that I had a bad personality, but they were probably just bitter or jealous-”

Sudden bursts of laughter erupting from Iwa-chan cut him off, the arms that were once crossed over his chest now supporting him on the table as he cackled. Oikawa noticed that a dimple dotted his cheek when his smiled, and his eyes crinkled in a way that starkly contrasted from the unimpressed frown he had only seen him wear. For some reason, Oikawa’s face was beginning to burn like pavement left to stare at the sun, and it wasn’t just from the alcohol anymore.

“What’s so funny, Iwa-chan? The demeaning of another is not something to laugh about.”

“It is when it’s true,” he managed to get out between chuckles, “Your personality does need a bit of work, if you ask me.”

Oikawa squinted at Iwa-chan indignantly,hoping the look masked how he actually felt about his outburst, how good he thought he looked with unprecedented glee on his features. He leaned on a hand propped up on the table, gaze still entwined with Iwa-chan’s.

“Ya know, I don’t think you’re supposed to pick apart someone you've just met right in front of them. Could be considered rude.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re supposed to give someone you’ve just met a childish pet-name, either. So I think I have the liberty to make fun of you.”

“Hmm.” Oikawa hummed, still leaning towards the man across from him. He let a few things filter through his brain before settling on his next words: Iwa-chan muscled arm encircling him as he helped him inside, his cheeks flushed from either embarrassment or anger-he looked good either way, honestly- the way Iwa-chan whole face lit up when he laughed and, _god_ , that _dimple_. And while all of these things were extremely good reasons for him to say what he wanted to, the actual deal breaker was the thought of his own cold apartment, it’s blank walls and hollow rooms that cast shadows that taunted him even in his head.

“So, Iwa-chan, if we’re talking liberties,” he said finally, his voice a low thrum, “what else do you think you could do to someone you’ve only just met?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm in a bit of a rut it seems so sorry if this isn't as good/long as it could have been :///  
> feedback is always appreciated!!!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick updated (hell yeah) since I'm finally finished high school. though i've got a busy week coming up with graduation and everything so, again, bear with me.

Holy shit.

Iwaizumi barely let his surprise at Oikawa’s implication-which was quite smooth, he had to admit-show before wrestling it away with his usual unimpressed frown.

“Not that much,” he scoffed, squinting at Oikawa’s own lilted lids from across the table. He felt his whole face burn being under the predatory gaze Oikawa was throwing at him, threatening to uncover his probably already transparent attempt at nonchalance.

“Well, you’ve showed me quite the bit of hospitality. Helping me with that unfortunate nosebleed, making me french fries and all that. Very kind of Iwa-chan~” His voice was the lowest of purrs. Iwaizumi swore that he could feel the vibrations of Oikawa’s lips in the pit of his stomach.

This was not happening.

“Yeah, I’m starting to regret that,” he mumbled.

It wasn’t that he wished Oikawa hadn’t suggested what he did, if anything he was relieved that he wasn’t alone in being attracted to some random guy he met only forty-five minutes prior. It was just that it couldn’t happen, not now, not tonight. Not when Oikawa’s blood alcohol level could most likely rival his alcoholic uncle’s on New Years.

Although, Oikawa _was_ currently eating. In theory, the alcohol should be working its way out of his system….

“Oh, don’t say that Iwa-chan! I really appreciate what you did. If there’s anyway I could repay you,” Oikawa’s eyes glinted, “just say the word. Or if you’d like to take the reigns on this one…” As he trailed off, he blinked innocently at Iwaizumi, his previous mischievous air replaced with something softer. Compliant, almost.

Iwaizumi needed to get control over this conversation before he did something he would regret, like he mistakenly did in the past.

“Actually, there is something I could do for you,” he answered, rising from his slumped perch in the booth.

Oikawa visibly brightened, eyes shining as his back went ramrod straight. “Great! So do you want go to your place or-”

“I can call you a cab,” Iwaizumi cut him off, swiftly crossing the room and grabbing the phone behind the counter as he did so.

Oikawa blanched. “W-what? Wait, Iwa-chan, no, don’t do that!”

Iwaizumi paused with the phone in mid air. “Why not?”

“Well, I thought you meant-” he broke off, glancing down at the table in front of him as his cheeks flushed red.

He was silent for a few seconds before he perked up again. “I haven’t finished my fries! It’d be rude to leave them when Iwa-chan spent so much time preparing them for me.” Oikawa plopped a few fries in his mouth, trying to legitimize his excuse, Iwaizumi supposed.

Iwaizumi sighed and placed the phone back on the receiver. “Fine. But I’m calling one once you’re done, you shouldn’t walk home alone.”

Oikawa grinned, nodding vigorously.

“Alright,” he sighed once more, this time a bit heavier, “glad we got that settled.”

Iwaizumi was now not only exhausted physically but mentally. This was part of the reason he hated alcohol. It messed with people’s basic motor skills, and while it sometimes broke people down and brought them to tears, (which could be entertaining depending on what they were crying about, one time Kuroo cried to Iwaizumi over the phone because he hadn’t been able to find a single cat that liked being pet by him, _ever_ ), it usually just made the person ten times more annoying and hard to deal with which always left him feeling drained.

“Where are you going, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa questioned with a mouth full of fries when Iwaizumi made way to the other side of the diner.

“Before I was interrupted,” he gave Oikawa a pointed look over his shoulder, “I was in the middle of closing up. So if you don’t mind, I’ve got cleaning to do.”

“Ouu! Janitor Iwa-chan~ Feel free to take your shirt off if you get sweaty, I don’t mind.”

Iwaizumi’s grip tightened around the wooden handle on the mop, threatening to end it’s life. “Shut up or I’ll call the cab right now.”

Despite the warning, Oikawa giggled, but moved his fingers across his mouth as if to zip his lips and then ‘threw away the key’. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. It seemed when Oikawa was drunk he was reverted back to middle school.

With that, Iwaizumi grudgingly delved into scrubbing the place clean of the normal wear and tear of the day so it’d be ready for tomorrow. After about ten minutes, he was finished with the floors and moved on the wiping the tables down. Once he got to where Oikawa was sitting, Oikawa broke the silence that had settled easily around them when Iwaizumi had started cleaning.

“Hey, Iwa-chan?” He almost sounded apprehensive.

Iwaizumi didn’t bother to stop wiping the table. “Hmm?”

“You made these fries out of the goodness of your own heart right?”

At that, Iwaizumi paused. His arm still outstretched over the table, frozen mid arch. “What?”

“What I mean is,” Oikawa seemed to be tip-toeing around something, “these were...on the cuff, right?”

“What.”

“Unrecompensed.”

“Huh?”

“Freewilled?”

“What? Just say it, dumbass. I was never patient enough for twenty questions.”

“I’m trying to exercise tact, Iwa-chan! The last time I-uh- _assumed_ something was free I ended up with a fist in my face.”

Iwaizumi backed up and regarded Oikawa with a blank expression as it finally hit him.

“You don’t have any money.”

“There we go Iwa-chan! I thought I was going to have to spell it out for you for a moment there, but it seems you’re not as dense as I thought.”

Ignoring that dig with great effort, Iwaizumi stuck to the matter at hand. “Which means you also don’t have money for the cab.”

“Hm, I guess you’re right.” By the way Oikawa looked, Iwaizumi could see just how happy he was to have unintentionally trapped him.

“Also,” the smug bastard continued, “if I remember correctly, you said I shouldn’t walk home alone.”

Iwaizumi wasn’t sure how he stopped himself from punching that god damned smirk off of Oikawa’s face.

“I take that back. You should be fine.” There was no inflection in his voice, as all his effort was put into not giving Oikawa a third nosebleed.

“But Iwa-chan! The park across the street is where that man has been targeting women, is it not? I could be attacked without someone as burly as you to fend them off!”

“Good thing you’re not a woman.”

“I’m pretty enough. If not even more, so I’m at an even greater risk! Should the man attack me, it could be out of envy, not lust, or even both!”

“Alright!” Iwaizumi had to end Oikawa’s dramatics before he popped a blood vessel. “If I agree to walk you home, will you knock it the _hell_ off?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iwa-chan just can't catch a break  
> (not to sound pathetic but you're comments keep me goin so feel free :^))  
> oikaiwas.tumblr.com


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is kinda late/short but i've been pretty busy lately with graduation so i just wanted to finally get somethin out for you guys. next chapter will be longer!!!!

The walk to Oikawa’s apartment was long, much to Iwaizumi’s dismay, and on top of that, the city’s late autumn chill never failed to bring tears to his eyes each time they rounded a new corner. Unlike the center of the city, where things never seemed to die down and everything always moved so quickly under a headache inducing fluorescent glow, this part of the city seemed to be engulfed in the shadows cast from buildings under a moon they could no longer see. The silence was looming and thick, interrupted only by alley cats rummaging through trash cans and the occasional car zipping by.Their rhythmic steps on the wet pavement and steady breaths whisking white smoke from their lips the only constant sound among them.

Despite his initial annoyance at being sucked into having to walk Oikawa home, Iwaizumi found himself relaxing with each step. This was what he loved about the city he had called home for the past three year; the silence. He had known ahead of time that getting some peace and quiet-which he prioritized, honestly- was probably not going happen, but once he experienced this part of the city he was immediately put at ease. Iwaizumi had been in awe at the complete silence that existed in the midst of so much life, wondered how it could exist when just three miles south there was a string of bars that never closed and music that never stopped.

Later, when he actually moved in, he had found out it was because this was the bad part of the city and no one ever bothered to come down here. Minor details aside, this place gave him some peace of mind, room to actually think without getting dizzy, and, most importantly, the rent was dirt cheap.

Beside him, Oikawa bumped into him for the upteenth time since they left the diner, and while Oikawa was still quite drunk, it's happened way too often for it to be an accident. In addition to that, he had been extremely quiet since they’d left-not that Iwaizumi minded-and though they had only just met, Iwaizumi couldn’t help but think that was out of character.

Iwaizumi was just about to ask him if he was alright when a stray cat suddenly darted from the dark alley they were passing, eliciting a sharp gasp from Oikawa, causing him to latch on to Iwaizumi’s bicep and yank him in front of himself.

“Oh, thank God,” Oikawa breathed as the cat disappeared across the street, slumping against Iwaizumi’s back with relief.

Iwaizumi found himself chuckling, amused that Oikawa, a _grown_ man, had just borderlined shrieked and hid behind-

“Wait a second,” Iwaizumi said as the realization finally hit him, “you just used me as a shield! What if it was actually something bad?”

Oikawa blushed but kept his death grip on Iwaizumi’s arm. “I didn’t mean too! Besides, isn’t that why Iwa-chan came? To protect me with his life?”

He scoffed. “I don’t think that cat could’ve caused any mortal danger.”

“It could have been feral! I could have died right then and there had it attacked me, and then Iwa-chan would have been left to mourn my unfortunate demise for years to come. So really I just saved us both, you should thank me.”

Iwaizumi gaped at him.

“That seriously wouldn’t happen,” his voice sounded as done as he felt.

“Uh huh,” Oikawa nodded, brown hair bouncing as he did so, “I read this article once that this lady had gotten bitten by some deranged cat and then-”

“That’s not what I meant,” Iwaizumi cut him off, though he was sort of curious what happened to the lady, “I meant that if you did die, I’d wouldn’t mourn since I’d be able to go home and actually get some sleep tonight instead of babysitting your drunk ass. All in all, I’d be fine.”

Oikawa placed his free hand over his heart, “Iwa-chan, I’m wounded.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not the case,” he sighed, “Let’s keep moving, I actually would like to sleep tonight.”

Surprisingly, Oikawa complied without any further complaints though he did keep his grip on Iwaizumi’s arm, which for some reason Iwaizumi didn’t think to tell him to stop.

They continued on in silence until the streets started to brighten from streetlamps that were only placed in parts of the city that mattered. Cars, buses, and people alike started to filter out through the night more frequently. Iwaizumi could feel Oikawa gradually loosen up with each group of people that passed them until he eventually released him from his hold.

“We’re almost there, Iwa-chan,” he turned to Iwaizumi with a smile, the pale yellow glow from the world around them highlighting his face in all the right places.

He simply nodded in reply, deciding it was better than trying to squeeze words out of his ever tightening throat.

Eventually, they came to stop at the base of an enormous apartment building that looked like it was built yesterday. The very peak of it stretching well above the top of Iwaizumi’s building, the crystal windows that gleamed even in darkness starkly contrasting with the worn brick and broken windows protected with metal bars in which he lived.

Didn’t this guy not have any money for french fries?

“Home at last~” Oikawa sang with a grin and reached into his pocket, retrieving a shiny gold card that he swiped across something on the wall. The thing offered a small chime and the tall front doors swung open automatically.

“I’ll see you, then,” Iwaizumi waved halfheartedly and turned to go the way he came, ignoring the twist of disappointment in his chest.

“W-wait! Iwa-chan!” Looking over his shoulder, Iwaizumi saw Oikawa half in and half out of his building, keeping the door open with his foot but leaning out to call after him.

“Why don’t you stay for some tea? Or coffee, Iwa-chan seems like a coffee kinda guy.”

He checked his phone for the time. “It’s almost 2:30. Why would I do that?”

“Because you want to-”

Right.

“or because you’ll miss me-”

Like he’d ever.

“or because I’m devastatingly handsome and you can brag to all your friends-”

“I’m going home, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi just barely kept his voice from a growl and turned to leave again.

“Or,” Oikawa practically screamed, surprise stopping Iwaizumi in his tracks, “because I’m trying to be nice-which _does not_  happen often, mind you- and repay Iwa-chan for how kind he’s been.~”

When he didn’t move, Oikawa pressed on. “C’mon Iwa-chan, just twenty minutes then you can get home and finally get that sleep you’ve been complaining about. I’ll even call you a cab, my treat!”

His proposal honestly didn’t seem like that bad of an idea, he’d get a free cab ride and the coffee-Oikawa had pegged his preference correctly, that bastard-would help keep him awake till he got home. Although Iwaizumi wasn’t sure he agreed because he _was_ so exhausted or because he was lured in with the thought of seeing Oikawa’s hypnotizing gaze in his own home.

He felt a flush of heat rise to his cheeks with the intimacy of it all.

“Twenty minutes,” Iwaizumi walked towards him, “Twenty minutes and then you call me a cab.”

Oikawa’s grin stretched wider, his tilted head gazing at Iwaizumi with heavy lidded eyes that pierced his skin, making him wish there was something between them to lessen the intensity of it.

“Anything for Iwa-chan~”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Iwa-chan ever get to sleep? The world may never know


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finally caught a spare moment and got this out for u guys!!!!! i've been extremely busy with vacations/getting ready for college so regular updates probably won't start until late august maybe???  
> anyway here u go hope u enjoy!!!!  
> (also haven't edit it much yet so excuse anything embarrassing)

Oikawa apparently lived on the top floor. At least, Iwaizumi assumed since the elevator ride never seemed to end. Not only was it long but Oikawa droned on and on about his neighbors; how so-and-so had an obnoxious party every other night or how the lady next door had a really cute dog that she never let him pet for more than thirty seconds. Honestly, Iwaizumi got where he was coming from on that one but still-- Oikawa’s mindless ramblings left him dizzy given his exhausted state of mind.

Iwaizumi almost collapsed from relief when the elevator began to slow and let out a quick ding. He followed Oikawa down a long hall until he stopped before his door, retrieving his keys from his pocket.

Oikawa tossed a wink over his shoulder. “Welcome to Paradise, Iwa-chan.”

Stepping through the threshold, Iwaizumi was greeted with…..nothing.

The blinding white walls of the living room framed nothing more than a black couch, a coffee table to match, and a flat screen TV. If it wasn’t for the kitchen to the left or the hallway descending into darkness on the right, Iwaizumi would have thought he was in his dentist’s waiting room. The only thing that gave away that someone actually was living here were the plates in the sink and a few boxes behind the couch.

“You moving in?” Iwaizumi nodded towards the pyramid.

“Uh, no I just,” Oikawa replied as he made way for the coffee machine, “never know where to put anything.”

“Really,” Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at him despite his back being turned and moved farther into the living room. “If you ask me, anywhere would be fine. It’s not like you’re running out of room or anything.”

“Minimalism is a style, you know~” Oikawa called after him, voice faint from inside the kitchen.

Sure, it was a style but looking around his apartment, Iwaizumi doubted that was Oikawa intention. It just looked empty and cold. Sad.

As he walked passed the couch, he saw a black grand piano tucked back in a nook surrounded by windows that wasn’t visible from the door. That corner of the apartment at least looked inviting; music books strewn across the floor, coffee mugs dotting the piano’s surface, and a fantastic view. From up here, Iwaizumi could practically see the entire city. He could see the vibrant fluorescence that emanated from the rooftops of the residential section of the city-which he was currently in-and even the heavily shadowed business district in which his shabby loft resided. Separating the two halves was a park that looked hellish at the moment, veiled in the clouded darkness, but Iwaizumi guessed looked incredible during the day.

“You play?” Iwaizumi asked as he ran his fingers lightly across the keys.

“Huh?” Oikawa’s wild hair appeared in the kitchen window, taking Iwaizumi back to Kuroo at the diner just a few hour earlier.

Oh how his night had drastically changed.

“The pi-”

“Wait, how do you like your coffee?” Oikawa cut him off, disappearing again.

“Black is fine.”

“That’s a relief. I just finished off my creamer.” Oikawa reappeared out the kitchen door, carrying two cups of steaming coffee. “Anyway, you were saying?”

He passed Iwaizumi his mug. “I was asking if you play.” Iwaizumi took a sip and almost hummed at the taste. Bastard makes good coffee.

Oikawa blinked in surprise, the hand holding his mug very still.

“Something wrong?”

“No, I’m just surprised you asked me. No one’s really noticed it back here before.”

“It’s not exactly hidden, if that’s what you’re trying to do.”

“I’m not trying to hid it, it’s just,” Oikawa looked slightly lost for about a half a second longer before a tiny smirk lifted his cheeks, “anyone I’ve brought back here was a little too- uh- _preoccupied_ to even notice it back here.”

Ah.

There was a slight uncomfortable lull in the conversation as what Oikawa said made it’s mark before he place his mug among the many others forgotten and sat on the piano bench.

“But to answer your question, yes. I play.” Oikawa aimless ran his slender fingers across the keys, the corners of his eyes crinkling fondly, “Used be real good as a kid, going to recitals and what not, but now it’s just something to do.” He sounded wistful as he spoke, as if he were remembering a better time.

Iwaizumi would be damned if he ever admitted that he felt his heart constrict when he heard Oikawa’s voice crack. Realizing that he was currently in danger of an Emotional Drunk, which he did _not_ have the mental capacity to deal with right now, Iwaizumi went to grab a stool by the bar and placed it next to the piano.

“Give me a sample,” he prompted as he sat, nodding to the piano and nudging Oikawa leg with his foot.

Oikawa’s wide eyes snapped up to met his. He would of looked shocked but the slight smile on his lips gave away his excitement. “Really?”

Iwaizumi paused with his mug halfway to his lips and offered Oikawa a small, encouraging smile. “Quick, before I change my mind,” he teased.

Oikawa grin lit the room. “Alright,” he breathed and started to fidget in his seat, cracking his knuckles and repositioning himself. He even fixed his hair a bit before starting, a nervous habit maybe. Iwaizumi was chuckling silently to himself until the first string of notes began and wiped the smile of his lips.

The beginning was high and quiet, the song Oikawa played. Iwaizumi saw his hands flutter across the piano as if he was in slow motion, his eyes closed and jaw slack. He curled over the piano as it started to pick up, body swaying with the music he created and hair falling over his eyes. From beside him, Iwaizumi could see the faintest grin plaster itself across Oikawa’s face as he played, completely lost in the music. He played so delicately, his fingers gently caressing one key before moving to another. Iwaizumi was in awe, entranced by Oikawa’s fluid movements and the _heartbreaking_ song- never wanted to hear him stop.

Unfortunately, he did and when the last note finally faded back into silence, Oikawa sat back with a grin that made Iwaizumi wonder why Oikawa chose to wear any other expression.

“That felt good,” his eyes were shining, from tears or something else Iwaizumi didn’t know.

Iwaizumi waited a few seconds to reply so he could get his bearings. When he finally did speak, his voice was gruff, “What was that?”

Oikawa’s shoulder’s deflated, lips quivering in a pout. “You didn’t like it.”

“No, that's not- I’m mean, yes I liked it. A lot,” he sighed, internally cringing at his stuttering. “Did you write that?”

Oikawa laughed, “God, no. I’m not that good. It’s called _So Long, Lonesome_ by Explosions in the Sky.”

Iwaizumi just stared at him.

“It might’ve sounded strange because in the original version there's other instruments but,” Oikawa blushed ever so slightly and motioned to himself, “that was all I can do with it.” He was right in a way, not that it sounded strange, just sort of empty and quiet; like it was missing something.

And Iwaizumi liked it. Iwaizumi liked him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what u think i love hearing from u guys seriously it means the world  
> oikaiwas.tumblr.com  
> also real song btw i recommend explosions in the sky to any living breathing human


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yaYYy the dead beat (me) updated!!! hope u enjoy this :)))))

Oikawa had had _many_ people over for the night. In theory, having a complete stranger in his apartment making mindless small talk until they each got what they came for should feel like a walk in the park.

But for some bizarre reason, this was different.

He found himself actually invested in whatever Iwa-chan was saying, instead of just nodding whenever he deemed necessary. He was actually putting an effort forth in the conversation when he’d typically let whatever menial topic drop and make eyes at his bedroom door.

Not that he wasn’t doing that now--he was human after all, and Iwa-chan wasn’t exactly helping with those biceps of his. It was just that if he didn’t end up tangled in his sheets with him, the night wouldn’t have been a complete bust--definitely would be preferred though. For the first time in years, Oikawa had found someone who he’d actually care to see a second or third time.

“You’re lying,” Oikawa said now, squinting his eyes at Iwa-chan from where he straddled the piano bench. Iwa-chan had just finished telling Oikawa about a very unfortunate day at the diner where they had to close early due to rather unpleasant reactions to their ‘special sauce’.

“Completely serious,” Iwa-chan grinned, his hand over his heart, “We were open for four hours before the bathroom line started getting out of hand. There were a couple accidents that Kuroo and I-”

Oikawa swatted his arm, doubling over with laughter. “Alright, alright! I get the picture.”

Iwa-chan let out a quick burst of laughter, “Well, you did ask.”

“I had no idea that it was going to be graphic!”

“When it comes to that place, expect the worst.”

Easy laughter filled the room until they each lapsed into silence, both taking a break to sip their freshly refilled mugs almost simultaneously.

From the corner of his eye, Oikawa caught a flash of reds and blues on Iwa-chan’s forearm. Without a word he ran his spare index finger over the colors in silent question.

Iwa-chan raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Oikawa ran his finger back over it. “A tattoo?”

“Huh?” He twisted his arm so he could see what Oikawa was talking about.

“Oh, that,” Iwa-chan took a moment to look somewhat embarrassed, a blush on his cheeks making itself known, “I sort of..paint. In my free time.”

It was Oikawa’s turn to be confused. “Like houses?”

Iwa-chan laughed. Oikawa liked making him laugh.“Uh, no. Like paintings, I guess.”

“You guess? Are they paintings or not,” he smirked at him, “No need to get bashful on me, Iwa-chan.”

He rolled his eyes, “Yes, they’re paintings. I sometimes do commissions but most of the time I just paint to paint.”

“Iwa-chan’s talented!”

“Don’t look too surprised,” Iwa-chan mumbled into his coffee mug.

“And here I thought you were just a pretty face.”

Iwa-chan scoffed, a faint smile playing at his lips. “You’re one to talk. As of right now, all I see when I look at you is steady income for the hair gel industry. You haven’t exactly told me anything tonight that would convince me otherwise.”

Oikawa’s hand flew to his chest. “Ouch, people have feelings, Iwa-chan!”

A smug smile and a noncommittal shrug was all he got in reply. Alright, two can play at this game.

Oikawa leaned forward, lips curling upward. Like this, they were only separated by about two feet. “I’d like to have you know that I’m the head of public relations at a national magazine company.”

Iwa-chan hiked an eyebrow up to his hairline. “Impressive.”

“All this,” Oikawa twirled a hand around his face, “has got to be put to work somehow.”

Up close, Oikawa could see a very light splash of freckles across his nose and cheekbones that Oikawa hadn’t initially noticed over his dark skin. And his eyes, which Oikawa had originally thought were hazel, were actually a dusty green that burned intensely into his own.

Just as Iwa-chan started to slowly close the gap between them, the grandfather clock down the hall went off, signaling that three am had arrived. They paused, the space between minimal but might as well have been miles for all the good it did Oikawa.

When Iwa-chan spoke, it was just above a whisper. “I should go,” his breath tickling Oikawa’s lips.

Oikawa said nothing, letting Iwa-chan decide for himself if he should leave or not.

Although, he could persuade him to make the better choice…

Taking advantage of Iwa-chan’s current internal conflict, Oikawa brought a hand up and cupped his cheek, his thumb gently running over the flushed skin. Iwa-chan froze but stayed where he was. Oikawa only blinked at him slowly, his thumb moving back to repeat it’s path.

“I should go,” he repeated, but this time it sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

Impatience overpowered tact and soon Oikawa was slowly drawing Iwa-chan in with a steady hand. He stopped at the last second, their lips hovering over one another, again giving Iwa-chan the option to pull away if he wanted. When seconds passed and there was no movement in the room aside from the rise and fall of their chests, Oikawa closed the gap.

It was simple, the kiss. Each of them gently moving with one another at a steady pace, trying to get a feel for things. Oikawa decided he was going to let Iwa-chan take the next move for real this time, his worthless pride not letting him make himself seem too desperate. And when Iwa-chan actually did respond-- _god_ , was he thankful.

Iwa-chan pushed Oikawa’s mouth open with his own, finally tasting him. His hands came up to cradle each side of Oikawa’s face as his mouth dipped to the side, tongue tracing the inside of his cheeks. Oikawa let out a satisfied moan and pushed back, tongue flicking over Iwa-chan lips that tasted of bitter coffee. He let himself drown in the kiss, letting Iwa-chan strong arms and mouth smother him in heat. Iwa-chan pulled away just to litter kisses up the side of his throat. Oikawa couldn’t hold back a sigh.

“You like a lot of sugar in your coffee,” Iwa-chan said, voice husky and muffled down at his neck.

Oikawa chuckled and Iwa-chan moved his mouth to suck at the sudden movement.

“What can I say,” Oikawa breathed and pulled Iwa-chan away to look at him, “I like things sweet.”

Hands now curled in Iwa-chan’s shirt, Oikawa leaned back over the piano bench and yanked Iwa-chan with him. Their mouths clashed back together as they now lay with Oikawa on his back and Iwa-chan hovering over him. Oikawa immediately dipped down to Iwa-chan’s neck and began working the tender skin there, his tongue running over the bruise he left before hastily moving on to make another.

“Ahh-Oik-”

Oikawa quickly silenced him with his mouth, “Yes, Iwa-chan?”

“You’re very--good at this.” Iwa-chan seemed to be out of breath.

A cheshire grin cut across Oikawa face. “There’s more where that came from.”

He dove back down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was very fun tbh expect more of this in the future :~)  
> also let me know what you think!!!!  
> oikaiwas.tumblr.com


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